Tearing God Asunder
Summary: Estranged for years, the married couple Sigyn and Loki have led separate lives in perfect harmony until now. Fear consumes all persons in Asgard since their one connection to the outside realms was shattered and rumors from Heimdall tell them that Loki lives. She finds herself at the mercy of the criticism for slacking on her duties as a wife and conspiracies she is Loki's greatest ally; therefore, she is an enemy of Asgard who should be hanged for her crimes.
Faced with the choice of aiding Thor in his desire to keep his promise to the young mortal, Jane Foster, and fleeing for Midgard or staying in Asgard where she is nothing more than an enemy in the people's eyes, she decides the only way to clear her name is to aid Thor. But doing so means leaving behind the life she has built with the up and coming Crimson Hawk Theoric and heading back to the realm of her darkest nightmares.
Rating: T for violence, language, and suggested/implied adult content. Rating could possible change to M for later chapters.
Warning: Character deaths will occur in this story. This story will not have fairy-tale ending because too often, life does not have a fairy-tale ending.
Main Pairing: Loki/Sigyn vs Sigyn/Theoric
Other Pairings: Thor/Jane vs Thor/Sif, Fárbauti/Laufey, Coulson/Pepper, Odin/Frigga, and Stark/any pretty female in the story.
A/N: Without furtherado, here is the revised version of Lead Me Back to Normalcy. Let me know what you think of the story (and if you were a fan of the orignal, how it compares.) I will thank you in advance for reading this story! I hope you enjoy it very much! :)
PART I – Making Deals with God
Silence has become normal between us. Not the nice kind of silence, or the comfortable kind of silence. But the awkward kind of silence, like between strangers. Our silence is an avoidance of the truth. - Unknown
For being the Lady of Victory, she had suffered many losses. Sigyn mused that the mortals had given her name the wrong meaning; more fitting would be the Lady of Silence, and if that were the meaning of her name, she could hold her head smugly in Odin's court with the other Gods and Goddesses. In all that is gold in Asgard, she might even crack a smile on her full lips. But her lips were stitched into an emotionless frown. The thick, black thread with crusty scabs that weaved between her top and bottom lips were unseen by everyone but she. She traced her slight fingers over the wounds only she could feel. Sigyn found a strange comfort in the pain that tickled her lips.
This is what unconditional love had landed her in life.
A best friend whom she married to help prove he was the worthy son.
A lover who still wrote her love letters in purple flower's ink.
Two buried sons that did never lived to see the light of day.
By high laws' orders, she had a stranger for a husband.
Love, in this kind of a state, was a poison—a slow, agonizing poison that left her weak but alive, yearning to be with Hela.
She sank onto the bed, the sleek, brown covers were thrown into dishevel. Her long, unkempt curly, red but now nearly grim black locks fell into a spider's shape around her broken heart-shaped face. Grey eyes glazed over in the foreign emotions she thought she had left behind in her childhood. Against her fair skin, they looked ghostly, unnatural, disgusting. It was odd how both longing and despair could be wrapped up in a stare. Even stranger when that stare was directed to Loki's half of the empty bed.
They had not been intimate since Váli's death; which, by Odin's beard, had been years ago when they were adolescents blossoming into young adults. All of Asgard knew they were that married couple who led two separate lives. Neither of them had ever spoken to the other about separating. Sigyn, recalling those strange seasons, surmised that they had grown apart as they grew older. Loki had his affairs with the women, Angrboða, Queen Karnilla of the Norns, her own Aunt Freya, and by her own accidental discovery, Sif—Sif had been equally as surprised when she discovered Loki had taken on Thor's form. Naturally, Sigyn assumed that was only the very beginning of a long list of women Loki loved.
She had never been envious or even wrought with rage for Loki's li'l adventures. The goddess was wrapped up in her own affair with the soon-to-be Crimson Hawk Theoric. The sentry was much like Thor in build, brawny and bulging with thundering muscles. He was her fiery, dirty brown haired boy with matching skin that escorted her every place she went when outside the protective walls of Odin's hall. He was the man who kissed her before greeting her with gentle lover's words and filled her with regret of every marrying Loki Odinson.
Tiredly she reached out to touch where Loki's body would usually be slumped over, stealing her goddamn blankets in the middle of the night. The trickster slept like a rock at night because during the day he was constantly in motion, speaking on behalf of Odin to her grandfather Njord, plotting out his next prank on Sif or Thor or both of 'em, pleasuring himself, and inventing new spells of trickery to use in battle. Really, when one thought about his busy day, it only made sense that as soon as his head hit that pillow, he was out for the rest of the night.
She sighed despondently. How peculiar was it they had continued to sleep in the same bed every night for centuries, even after their whole separation. Sigyn could not recall a night she ever spoke a word to Loki, or he to her. The only times they spoke to each other were cordially at the banquets when they rarely became engaged in the same conversation. But the lady could have cared less about his words right now. Sigyn wanted his presence back in the bed so she could get a decent night's sleep.
The Goddess had never realized until Loki fell from the bifrost just how lonely the bed was at night without him. Granted, he was nothing more than a stranger emotionally to her now. There was something deeper or perhaps more shallow—Sigyn could not quite classify the physical need to have him as either—that left her bones aching. The bags underneath her eyes were just the tip of the iceberg of how badly her sleep schedule had been interrupted by his selfish act.
The creaking of the door across the room did not bother her. She slid her eyes over to Thor's hulking form that plodded towards the bed wedged in the far corner, hidden in the shadows of the flame. The God of Thunder still clung onto the strange Midgardian ways of walking around in loose pants with his boots hidden underneath their folds and a tight, linen shirt. He his hair had grown unruly and splayed over his shoulders and down his defined back. "I saw your light still glowing from the barracks," Thor stated, as if he truly needed justify a meeting with Sigyn.
He sat next to her on the bed and sunk into its softeness. Jane was small compared to him, but Sigyn in all honesty, looked like a frail younin' next to him. She had the proportions of a child but with the added bonus of a woman's elegant, lusty curves. Her breasts were small, hardly noticeable in her slack, azure nightgown. The playful energy that filled her body with so much life was burned out, smothered really by her deprivation of sleep. Thor folded his hands in his lap. "Are you well, Sigyn?"
The question was stupid because very obviously she wasn't okay, but this was Thor. He blundered badly with words. Instead, Sigyn ignored his words and solely listened to the genuine concern raised in his voice. "I miss him, Thor," she admitted exhaustingly, both physically (and emotionally because the lack of sleep intensified every damn emotion.) "I do not love him, but I miss him, very, very much."
"You love him," Thor stated.
Her lips pulled farther down into a deeper, grimmer scowl. "No," Sigyn sighed. "You cannot a love stranger, Thor." She looked up to him with the glimmer of gentle kindness on the sharp edges of her weariness. "You miss your mortal, but can you cannot say you love her for she is a stranger to you still."
"There is the potential," he replied. "I love the potential of what may be in the future when I return to Midgard."
"Oh, Thor," she crooned. "You love with your eyes, not your heart."
"Was it not thee who agreed with Loki that all love starts in the eyes and then grows in the heart?" he asked.
She bit her dry, cracking bottom lip, drawing blood from the very center. "Yes," Sigyn agreed. "I did when we were all children." She reached out, curling her fingers on Thor's meaty thigh. Her mouth warmed, softening at the small contact with another person.
"Drink some hearty mead, Sigyn," Thor suggested seriously.
"I do not drink much alcohol," she reminded.
"Never too late to start," he said.
"Are you that lonely yourself?" Sigyn inquired.
That was so much like Sigyn to switch the conversation away from herself to others, a backwards way of her to sly and shy way from answering questions too personal. "I worry for you because I regard you as a sister," Thor clarified rather bluntly. The bluntness was well received by Sigyn digging her fingers deeper into the cloth, egging him further. "I wish to see you dancing down the halls again, singing sweetly to yourself, and enjoying life once more."
"You need not worry of my own well being, Thor," she assured quite well. "I am simply in need of rest."
Thor was like a rock that would not budge. His eyes weighed heavier on her chest. He may not have been the brightest bulb nor the best observer, but not even he could escape the rumors that had been circulating faster in Asgard than a viral video on Youtube. He feared their sharp words were beginning to cut gashes into her thin skin. "Do not listen to them, Sigyn," Thor ordered. "They are scared like the rest of us."
"You?" she choked on the air. "Thor, you fear nothing."
"Simply because I do not show fear does not mean I do not feel fear," he elaborated. Thor closed his eyes as he rolled back onto the bed and took one of shy Sigyn's hands in his own. She gently squeezed his hand and ran her thumb over the top of his course, mammoth hands. He smiled at the warmth she still brought to others when she was herself in grief. It was no wonder the mortals referred to her as the Mother of the Gods. "I experienced a great deal of fear on Midgard: fear that I would be mortal till the end of days, fear that I would never return home, fear I had wronged my family, fear I had lost my family." He slid his eyes to connect to Sigyn's own pair. Somehow her damaged eyes still managed to strip his soul bare and still leave him feeling powerful.
It had to do with how she appeared so small and childish, even before the grief. Her presence could not help but evoke a deep, throbbing need to protect the one who spent her days weaving bright threads into their lives. Many times, he and others still felt compelled to buy her toys and tease her about her childish playfullness. He sighed. Where had that playfullness disappeared? More importantly, how did he go about getting that back? "I fear for you, Victorious—" Her mouth curled nervous, dissatisfied smile. "Sigyn. So busy are you with others, we neglect you until your grief becomes our own."
"I take much pride in fixing those broken things," she boasted sweetly.
"But who fixes you when you are broken?" he asked bluntly.
"I am most certainly not broken," Sigyn assured strongly, sounding insulted. She bristled into a sitting position with her shoulders squared and held held dignitly high but not to be confused with haughty pride. "The mortals may paint me as that abused wife, but you should know better, Thor. I am the Lady of Victory."
Thor grinned silly like a young boy. "There my sister is," he chuckled happily. Sigyn's cheeks were scorched with embarressment that she had fallen into a trap set by Thor. The corners of her mouth curled into a sly, relieved, and grateful smile. He yanked on her arm, earning a squeal of brief pain from her, to pull her onto his chest. Sigyn slid off his chest and tucked herself in the nook between his great swinging arm and sculpted chest. Being around Thor, she easily slid into her role as the child he and others protected. She wouldn't lie that she did not enjoy being the one protected for once. To Thor, she would always be a little girl.
Her hands curled around Mjölni's handle to marvel at the soft but worn leather. "What did the mortal call your weapon again?" she inquired.
"Mui-mui," Thor answered. He collected his thoughts, trying to sort out and put all the pieces that made up the mortal together. "Darcy is a very intriguing lady. She spoke of many strange things, including Facebook."
"Facebook?" Sigyn asked light-heartedly. "What is that? A book full of faces?"
"I imagine so," he mused. "She was able to paint my face in a blink of an eye with this odd instrument." The God lifted his free hand to illustrate the size of the small cellphone. "I am not sure how, but she claimed that my face would go into this Facebook."
"Midgard is a very odd place," she spoke. "It has changed much."
"You have been?" he asked innocently.
She nodded complaciently. "Long ago," Sigyn whispered, barely audible to even herself. "Before Njord." That was an aspect to the Goddess Thor had never quite understood; Loki, who despised their father with a throbbing passion, still referred to Odin as his father. Sigyn never reffered to the Hostage King as a father figure while Njord refferred to Sigyn as a daughter. He knew she was adopted later in her childhood, but ... she had lived with Njord every day up until the night she went from Loki's bride to his wife. That would have been an equivalent span of ten mortal years. Maybe blood did mean more than what Thor had first thought...?
He blinked and turned his curious eyes to Sigyn. The God could not help but wonder what reasons brought Sigyn to Midgard. She was not mortal—at least, she wasn't one anymore. Maybe she had started out mortal and ate one of the gold apples to turn her into a Goddess? Or maybe she had always been a God and simply lived in Midgard? But why would she have been abandoned then? Aesir did not abandon their children. Sigyn stuffed her aching eyes behind their lids. "What was it like?" Thor inquired curiously.
"Cold," she said in a detatched, I-really-couldn't-give-a-shit tone.
He laughed loudly, booming really at her voice before squeezing her tighter into the nook. Sigyn squirmed uncomfortably until Thor loosened his death grip, but she was nonetheless warmed by his strong arm. "Then that was very long ago! Midgard was warm, uncomfortably so when walking with the sun. I had never seen a realm like Midgard with red sand and rocks that stretched from horizon to horizon. Actually, Midgard looks like that troll that lives underneath the bifrost. I do not know how Jane can wear so many layers of clothes in that fire."
"Sounds unorthodox," Sigyn commented.
"Mortals are very strange," Thor agreed. "They do not believe in us, Gods and Goddesses, either. The majority of their culture worships God and his son Jesus."
"Who is Jesus? I have never heard of him," she asked curiously. "Did you meet him?"
He shook his head. "No," Thor mumbled. "Jane did not go into much detail about him. Darcy went on a rant about how our presence disproved The Bible. Erik was deeply troubled by this concept because he was a Born-again Christian. Darcy continued on her rant, proposing that Jesus could have been a God like us—to which I claimed I never knew of a Jesus. Jane ended up comanding Darcy to silence her tongue." Sigyn was giggling as she always did when Darcy came into the conversation. Her laugh was contagious, and Thor's own chest rumbled."You must meet Darcy. I sense you two would be great friends."
Sigyn's laughter quieted; her smile contorting into both hope and a blunt sadness. The rest of her young face fell downwards like the coming rain. "I would love that very much, Thor, but—" She climbed halfway out of her warm cliche and folded her arms on his wide chest, placing her chin on her forearms. The rest of her lively hair fell over her back and shoulders, sprawling down to her upper thighs. "Mortals do not live long. In a few short days for us, they have aged years. Before long, they are off to be with Hela."
"Heimdall has stated Jane is young," Thor answered earnestly. "She is busy with SHIELD and Darcy."
"For how long though?" she asked gravely. "Our bridge is broken. There is no source of the supernatural in all of the nine realms strong enough to repair the bifrost. We are cut off from our greatest allies, completely vulnerable to attack from the giants. They know how to reach our gates, but we do not know where. I fear that the time will be soon upon us where we will be drowning in our own blood, just as Odin drowned the people of Aurgelmir in his blood." Thor threaded a hand through Sigyn's hand to comfort her in small strokes. "Ragnarök is approaching. I can feel our final destiny stalking us, led by Loki."
Thor bitterly sighed. "I held you to be the last one to speak ill of Loki," he reprimanded. "He is your husband, Sigyn. You must never speak ill of him—"
"Husband?" she coughed. "Loki has never been a husband to me. We simply married because I would be able to marry up and stay in Asgard where I belong, and he could prove to your father to be a responsible son, ready to tackle the challenges of being partners." The words sounded so rehearsed but only because she had recited them for centuries on end, repeating over and over again her justifications for leading a separate life. "I feel more of a wife to Theoric than I do Loki." Sigyn eyes were filling with embarrassment for her shame. "I—I—I wish Loki would have died with the bifrost, Thor. I would have been freed from him and allowed to marry the man I love. I feel as if I am a monster for keeping Theoric bound to me. He is young and deserves a woman who can be his wife."
"Sigyn!" Thor uttered with astonishment and humility.
"I cannot help myself!" she defended crossly. "I am not sympathetic, Thor, but empathetic; however, I cannot be empathetic with someone who I do not understand their motives. As such, I will shed no tears for Loki—he causes his own miseries and must suffer those consequences. But what is not fair is that I must suffer for him as well simply because of a foolish act of compassion I did for him when I was a child. I—I—"
Her voice was cracking, shattering, and turning into ash. The redness along her cheeks deepened to a plum color and smoldered uncomfortably beneath her skin. The first of many tears scurried down her tender cheeks, catching sharply on the invisible stitches along her lips. A small cry came from her lips at the acidic feel of pain coming in contact with a heavy burden. "I cannot go out into Asgard without Balder and three of the Crimson Hawks to escort me. I see from the corners of my eyes how even the guards and servants revere me with a deep loathing from their justified, betrayed hearts. I feel as if I am that lone sheep in a field full of wolves." Sigyn pressed her head against his chest and clawed at his shirt for a place to for her fingers to curl around something safe and stable. "I—I—I f-f-f-feel so c-c-caged anymo-mo-oore," she sobbed. "I—I a-a-am loathing Loki. I want his head as much as the rest of Asgard for the suffering he is putting me through at this moment."
Thor … he was completely lost for words if any could be found for this situation. His stomach clenched with each sob that came ringing from her mouth. He bit his tongue, chewing madly like a boar on the worthless thing. Why was he not lucky like Loki and gifted with all the right words for every moment? He sighed through his nose and brought his great arms around his little, shaking, and terrified girl to protect her from an enemy he could not battle. Useless was how he felt just holding her on top of his chest.
Thor and she stayed like this till the candles began to burn low and her sobs dwindled down to heavy breathing. The front of his shirt was sopped with her tears and mostly likely permanently stained. "Sigyn," he called softly, cautiously. She lifted her tired eyes to his. Their shade of blue was the envy of Asgard and home to a stranger that had replaced their arrogant prince. Where there was cruelty once dominated housed another, kinder fate called restraint. "Would you accompany me for a ride through Asgard?"
"Now?" she spoke meekly.
"Of course!" he replied honestly. "The streets will be empty. You love to marvel at the realms and the many stars, no?" Thor used his hand to wipe her running, pink nose. "This would be the most opportune time to get out of the palace and enjoy Asgard in a new light."
"Thor," she groaned. "As enticing as that proposal sounds, I am in no condition to go riding. I—well, look at me! I am in my night gown, my hair a wreck, eyes stained red—"
"You are a handsome lady, Sigyn," he boasted. "Most men would find you even more ravishing in your attire." There was that jerky pull of his lips into haughty, that-was-the-prince-she-remembered smile. She might have reprimanded him if all her strength weren't sapped and his words anything less than genuine. "Theoric is a very lucky man to have found such a woman as yourself. The fact he waits for you only shows his absolute fidelity. You two make a good match."
"You and Sif are a fine match," she countered quicker than he expected.
He laughed, a bit at her witty attitude and nervousness. "Sif is wrought with anger for me," the God stated rhetorically.
"As would anyone woman, Thor," Sigyn commented. "Imagine if Theoric made a social call to Midgard, found a mortal, and then returned to me only a few days later claiming he had found his true love. I would be sick from my weak heart. Sif, she is ill because you fond over a complete stranger more than you ever did with her. I am empathetic for her and proud that she has not allowed her personal grieves to interfere with her duty to Asgard."
Thor caught the edge to her voice. "I have not shrunk my duties to Asgard."
Sigyn rarely rolled her eyes, but tonight seemed to be a night for breaking the norms. "In all that is gold in Asgard," she said sounding exasperated. "You have done little but pester Heimdall at every moment's notice to ensure your human is safe. You care more for that mortal than all of us in Asgard. Odin has raised his concerns of why kind of king you shall be of Asgard if you wish to protect Midgard over us. We cannot have a distracted king in these times."
"You simply do not understand," Thor growled. "If you saw, you would know the reasons for my stance."
"I am listening," Sigyn spoke clearly, very calmly.
"I said saw, not listen," he chided harshly. The Goddess' face scrunched up to have the wrinkles of angry wolf pup; it was too cute to be taken seriously but enough to deliver a harsh bite. "I know no words to describe what I endured or how I act around Jane. I simply know that when around Jane, I am different but at home. Come to Midgard with me and you shall see."
"Come to Midgard?" she spat madly. "Thor, you have had your head beaten against the wall far too many times! There is no way to get to Midgard."
"Loki said there were more bridges between our realm and the other realms than just the bifrost," Thor explained. Sigyn's eyes opened wide. She was surprised not at the information but that Thor knew. "As you are the Lady of Victory, I have faith you will find a way out of Asgard and to Midgard."
"Thor—"
"You can come to Midgard with me and see Jane. You can get away from these people and start anew if you wish. Bring Theoric along!"
"Thor—"
"Why not, Sigyn?" he asked intently. "What more reason do you need to leave? Or what reason could be greater for you to stay here where you are unhappy?"
"I have duties to stay here, Thor!" Sigyn retorted.
"What duties?" Thor grumbled. "You are a princess. You are expected to be nothing more a beautiful figurehead and raise the future princes and princesses of Asgard."
"Dismissing me because I am a woman?" she asked rhetorically. The Goddess slipped from beneath Thor's arms to stand poised as both a poisonous snake and lady. She pointed to the door with her delicate finger. "You may leave my room now, Thor," she ordered. Thor sat up, watching her painfully struggle to keep her composure. "I may not portray myself as a man as Sif does, but that is not an excuse to revere me as anything less than a man simply because I favor to retain my femininity."
A punch rolled this his stomach; his own fingers curled into a fist at his own, stupidly unyeilding words. "I did not mean my words as an insult," Thor clarified. "I meant that you have no expectations to stay here."
"What message would that convey to the people of Asgard if a prince and princess fled Asgard for Midgard? They would panic, just as they did when you were banished to Midgard!" Sigyn ranted. "There in lies my duty to the people of Asgard. Just as it is your duty to aid them, my future king."
"So you are content to stay here? All the while Loki prepares for Ragnarök on Midgard?" Thor questioned. "How is that protecting the people of Asgard?" Sigyn was silent and casted her sharp gaze down to the ebony floor where her faint reflection looked dismally back at her. Thor's great hands rested on either of her small shoulders and his shadow covered up the image of a dejected person. "Yes, you do have duties to Asgard to remain here, but you have an even greater duty to go to Midgard, not just for Asgard but yourself."
She sighed. "How is it, you who blunder badly with words, are the most convincing of the two," the Goddess complained lightly. Sigyn wearily smiled up at Thor, the dread already carving deep, stressed lines into her youthful face. Thor lifted her up, cracking her back in the process. "Thor!" she squealed painfully like a piglet.
"Oh, Sigyn!" he chirped happily, sounding happier than he had been before his exile. Thor placed her gratefully back onto the ground but still held onto her shoulders. A smile brighter than the sun radiated from his adorable dimples.
Her smile grew in strength. She kindly looked upon, grinning more at how his heart was leaping for joy in those eyes. The joy did not come from her mere agreement of helping him but that his promise to the mortal would go unbroken. Despite siding against Thor in his liking for a mortal, she could easily recognize the adoration he held for Jane. "We best leave before dawn," Sigyn suggested. She removed Thor's hands from her shoulders, moving towards a rack that held glistening pieces of her rarely worn armor.
He watched as Sigyn's hand travelled up and down the shaft of a spear that towered over her. She was adorable really with how she regarded the weapon thoughtfully and reminded him of the days when Odin would allow him to swing around a sword, as if Thor really knew how to use it. "We have no heading as to where any of these bridges are," he stated.
There was that innocent, playful smirk upon her soft lips. Sigyn looked over her shoulder to Thor with her eyes smoldering with something deeper. "Says you," she chimed.
"You know how to get out of here?" he asked delightedly.
Sigyn carried her spear in her left hand. She stood taller next to the weapon, just like a true warrior. Even her head was held just a hair differently, prouder, braver, and softer. The tiredness clung to her shapely form but was overshadowed by duty. Always such a grin and bear it person... "You would be surprised at all the secrets I know, both the good—" Her eyes strayed to the window where the glow of the broken bifrost was great against the black night sky. A thick, heavy rock sat in her throat, rubbing it raw. She painfully swallowed down the rock and felt it plop to the bottom of her gut. A shiver ran through her body at the heavy, sorrow feeling. Her heart beat slower at the memory of the tales of what occurred that night. Sigyn could not even begin to imagine how that night must, or should have plagued Thor every night when he went to visit Heimdall. "And the bad," she added weakly.
